Zahara of the Flame
by EverleafOwl
Summary: I suppose this is the space where I weave a web of magical words to capture you in my story...hmmm... Well, here goes nothing: The war, it seems, has consumed the minds and lives of all people. But I wouldn't know, being raised on the edge of the burning nation. But now the world (and the war) await me...can a spark save the fire?
1. Epilogue Part 1

Hello, you fabulous people! Welcome to my very first fan fic (on this site, at least)!

Oh, I know what you're thinking: "Dear Lord, not ANOTHER OC story! If I read about another OCx[actual character] gushy love story I think I might hurl!"

...or at least, that's what I guess you're thinking...I'm not exactly a Martian Manhunter when it comes to telepathy...

Well, allow me the delighted pleasure to prove you wrong!

This is NOT a love story in the sense of a cootie-infected Twilight parody *shudder*. This fasinating tale has ADVENTURE! ACTION! FRIENDSHIP! LOVE! IN-DEPTH CHARACTERS! HUMOR! FAMILY! THRILL! (Seriously, what more would you want? =D).

Interested? The adventure continues below...

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender. All chararcters go to their respected owners/creators. (*grumbles* If I did Tokka could be canon and Season 2 of Lok would have aired in March...).

* * *

It's a classic love story (don't stop me if you heard it already).

The fire nation girl of wealth, noble decent runs away two nights before her arranged marriage with the earth kingdom commoner. They've secretly been meeting, despite the rules of society, and believe they're ready to take on the world. The end, all go galloping happily on ostrich horses into the sunset…right?

**Wrong**.

You forgot about the mortified family; oh gee, did you hear how Roshina's eldest ran away with an _earth kingdom commoner_?

Yes, it really is a shame; there goes the trading business. Such a disgrace!

I heard that the father has turned to the fire whiskey, too.

No kidding? That little devil cat left her poor mother in the hands of their second girl…apparently she hasn't left the house for a month.

That poor sweetie will never be married; the eldest made sure of that.

They seemed like such an esteemed bloodline, too. What a heartbreaking way to dirty the water.

Don't forget the harsh, cruel slap of reality to the runaways.

Like the fact that merrily skipping across the fire nation islands is all fun and well for a couple months until a certain young woman discovers she's with child.

He ditched her faster than you could say fire flakes.

She took the long, grueling, and dishonorable path home: the one the winds between the mountains of regret and valleys of loneliness.

Back home, there wasn't much of a 'home' to return to.

Upon arrival, (now at four months), the excepting girl is greeted with a sister that despises every piece of her being for leaving her in this hell hole, a despairing mother and a lost father…

A nightmare.

I'll spare you the details and make it sound prettier than it really is….you're welcome.

Their dignity is gone, burned with irony dancing on the ashes.

The eight generation business has completely failed and abandoned.

The mother cuts ties with the wandering father and journeys to a village by the ocean, for a fresh start. The eldest comes with her.

The younger daughter has an honorable marriage to a proper man and moves into a suitable home…but that doesn't clean her sister's stain on the family.

The single mom gives birth to a healthy baby girl and dies shortly after.

(Some say malaria fever, but others know of a broken heart).

So, just to sum it up, we have a deceased mother and a baby left to her mother to raise, a lost soul of a former father, a disgraced, shadowed sister and a tainted family bloodline.

It's a real hot mess.

The new grandmother is done with it all. She moves, for the final time, to the far out fire nation islands to make her true home.

There, Roshina builds her simple home on the edge of a cliff, facing East to greet the Sun. The aging woman grows herbs and spices for the local village and occasionally, makes glass with the aid of the beach's sand and her gift of fire with her granddaughter. It's good practice for the young one and teaches the beauty of transformation to the little girl.

The motherless child is raised by the ancient art of the sun and sacredness of a life. Sure, the war's still raging on but maybe there is_ some_ peace left in the hostile world…even if it is a small amount…

But nothing lasts forever.

* * *

AH, A CLIFFHANGER! I'm so evil...*begins evil laugh and chokes on own spit* ...well, I try.

More on the way, dearies! You're viewing of this new story (So formal, Everleaf! Why thank you, Everleaf! I do try...), means so much to me! Almost more than honor means to Zuko..._almost..._

Reviews are nice, too! Just puttin' it out there...think of them as little gifts of joy presented as electronic comments; you know you wanna!

(Unless you don't, of course...but still consiterate it! I'd really appreciate it!).

I won't keep you any longer; you are busy, important people with things busy, important people need to do.

Also, it's almost Summer! Hurray! :D Go outside and enjoy it!


	2. Epilogue Part 2

**A/N: **Hello my lovelies! First off, thanks for viewing! :) I really appreciate all the support (anonymous or no), I've recieved from you peoples! Thank you so much! You are all so wonderful!

This extra special chapter goes out to Angelic Land, a great writer who reviewed my work and made me feel really welcome in the massive universe of FanFiction...you are the absolute BEST and I hope ya like this! (you've waited long enough!)

If you have a quite second, pop over to his profile and R&R his story, **Aang up at bat**. Definetly worth the time! :)

Well, enough bragging about other awesome people..on with the show!

Disclaimer (seriously?! I'm gonna have to do this _every time?!_ Rough life...)- *clears throat dramatically* I, EverleafOwl, do not obtain or claim to have obtained any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender. All copyrighted characters/ideas/other belong to the highly esteemed Mike and Bryne of Nicktoon. I do, however, own my OCs...

Woah, that was formal...

...I should be a politician...

*ponders said decision*

Nah; I'd probably screw up the economy by making all books free or something...

*shrugs* Well, the library's always open...

* * *

I like to think I can remember.

It seems so pitiful, not even knowing your own mother.

Sometimes I imagine that if I search hard enough, something will appear.

A pair of warm, amber eyes. The scent of sweet perfume. Desperate tears from a husband that wouldn't stay.

But I'd be lying to myself.

I only remember the cliffs; high, rocky ledges that peered curiously to the crashing waves and soft shores below.

The swaying yellow grasses that draped over the land like a blanket, with flowers dotting along its surface as embroidery covers a noble woman's dress.

A small hut, smaller still for two, with thick mud walls and herbs that dangle from the rafters with the never-fading presence of summer.

The scorching sun and its blazing heat towered in the sky, baking the earth and bringing forth the light. _My _light.

That might sound selfish. I really don't care.

You see, my entire childhood revolved around the light.

The spark.

The flame.

The fire.

The beginning.

Ever since I was small, before I can even pretend to imagine my mother, it has existed.

My _sobo_, Roshina, taught me everything she knew. Not only what she was trained to do as a child, but what her ancestors before her had learned; the ancient way, long forgotten except for the few that carry on its legacy.

She told me that long ago, her great-great-great grandfather was a very bad man. He robbed for fun and was not afraid to hurt others with his gift. One night, he was on the run from the angry townsfolk and stumbled into a temple.

Cold and tired, he slept for a night and awoke the next day with one of the temple's keepers bringing him food, much to his surprise. At first, he was skeptical of this strange kindness and questioned harshly against the temple man. The caring man simply rose, and after bidding my ancestor to do the same, placed a hand over his heart and his lips and gave unto him a new vision.

…or that's what my _sobo _would tell me…I never really believed in fairy tales. But she hated when I'd interrupt so I'd listen, quietly imagining such a fantasy.

"Go," the fire sage had told him, "And follow the sun for you and your descendents."

I never quite understood the part about my forefather seeking the fading Sun Warriors' way of life, but apparently he did. His village kicked him out for defying the order set by the current fire lord (my ancestor was reawakened in the time of the splitting of the royal court and the fire sages), so he traveled the land, searching for something he did not know.

Eventually my elder settled down with a wife and raised a family. At the time of his passing, he granted his eldest child, a daughter, the few beliefs and customs he managed to uncover about the true sun descendants. His name was _Kokoro_; he who has the new heart and mind.

Ever since, the ways of the sun have been passed down through my grandmother's family, either to the eldest/or second eldest firebender, if the first born did not have the gift. The manner has been tampered and altered a bit, but that's not important, as my _sobo_ told me. What's important is that what was almost forgotten is being carried on by you, my little _pikapika_.

She'd smile and kiss my nose and I'd jump into her arms, toothily grinning and flinging my arms around her neck, my little fingers toying with the long silver braid that stretched down her back. We'd walk back inside the hut from the open meadow and she'd let me light the fire kindling, because of my good job with the day's breathing exercises.

I'd fall asleep by the flickering light and she'd fondly tuck me in bed, only to be woken up the next day to her smiling face and the rising sun the next day.

It was a good, simple life…the best memories I **really** remember.

Sometimes when the mild winter came whistling from the north and sunlight grew short as the stubby candles scattering our home, I'd come in from chores to see her sitting in the old rocking chair, gazing out the window to a patch of rocks where she'd go and sit often. Her brown eyes would glisten and she'd clutched at a faded crimson scarf, not moving. Sometimes I'd slip back out, leaving her to her thoughts but other times I'd enter silently and start cooking or cleaning, keeping her hushed company with old visions I didn't understand…or want to understand.

I never imagined it would end…the thought never occurred to me, even as I grew older and she became frailer, more tired. She was always strong to me; a rock for the small corner of the raging world we called home. Nothing could break this bond...

But, oh how fate can be cruel.

* * *

DA DA DAH! ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER! Oh, man! I'm gonna get clubbed to death with a laptop or something before I actually write the exposion...

Soooo? What do ya think? Let me know! Here's a poem to help you out:

_Reviews are lovely;_

_Every writer will say_

_So I only ask of you_

_A small fraction of your day_

_With just a click,_

_(It's really quick!)_

_Tell me your thoughts_

_For what is the cost?_

_And I will thank you next time_

_a chapter posts new..._

_Urgh, I'm tired of rhymes..._

_The author loves you!_

So...yeah...*hopeful grin*

If ya haven't checked out my profile yet (why are you still here?! Go read it and come back!), I'm an expressionalist poet...

...no idea what "expressionalist" means...(is it a word?)...it just seems to fit my style.

ANYHOO, my super cool writer and fellow nerd kid sister has an account here now, too! Yay! Her user name is Indigo Tides and she has one TMNT 2012 story up and in progress, it you're into that kind of stuff...

*checks invisible To-Do List* Yup...I think that's about it!

OH ALMOST FORGOT!

_Sobo_ means 'grandmother' in Japanse

Simiarly, '_pikapika' _means 'brilliant spark'

-If you are of Japanese origin and/or know the language, I apologize ahead of time if words are being used in the wrong tense...I used Google Translate (not the best idea...but I was rushing)-

NOW I believe I'm done so I wish all you fellow readers, writers, and casual browsers a fantastic night and hope your summer is going well! :) Thank you again for all you're continued kindness! I wish you all the best in...what ever you are doing right now!

Take care!


	3. Epilogue Part 3

**A/N: **Good day wonderful readers! :)

Yay another chapter! Woo hoo! This one might be a bit shorter than the one before it, but I hope you enjoy it none the less!

A BIG thank you goes out to Writers and Readers, LiveOutLoud143, Ruffles10, and Angelic Land for your inspirational reviews and caring support! I means so much to me and I am sincerely gratiful for that!

...so, yeah...

...ummm...

(suprisingly, I don't have a lot to say today...that's a shocker!)

Disclaimer- I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters/ideas/etc. I DO own my OCs, however...All rights of A:TLA go to Mike and Bryne of Nicktoons.

...that's all, folks!

*hums merrily and casually walks away*

* * *

When I was at the sweet age of 10, it happened.

I was three and a half years into learning defensive and offensive poses and techniques; it took double the chores and begging on bended knees to convince her to teacher me so early, but finally she abided.

It was a beautiful summer day, the warm sunshine welcome after almost a week of unseasonable rain. I had risen early, eager for a new move I had been working toward for a month's time. Stretching by the herb garden, I glanced up to see Roshina carefully making her way up the old path, feet trusting where the weary eyes cannot.

I had taken her empty trading basket and we were walking back inside for breakfast when fate struck for the fatal blow.

Trying to recall it now, it's a flash of low motion and then a smudged blur of horror.

_Talking about a rare snippet on news on the distant war._

_The rustling in the poppy flower bush. _

_A creature springing into the air, black as the death of night._

_Me screaming in fear as its stinger aims for me. _

_My _sobo_ leaping in front of me, taking the poison to the heart. _

_Her falling falling falling to the ground, face twisted in pain, hands tearing weakly at the creature's toxic wound._

_My mind reeling in shock, I sprint for the village, shrieking and dreading and calling for help._

_A man following me, speaking calm words that I don't understand and calling himself a doctor._

_Kneeling down to her side with shallow breathing and fading hope and desperate love._

_Cradling her head and carefully stoking her hair as the kind man works, I barely see his efforts. _

_Feeling the faithful heartbeats be silenced and hear the last breaths echo as the spirit slips through my tears._

_A thousand memories flash across my eyes as I kiss her forehead and close those dead eyes, too stunned to move any more._

_An arm guides me inside as the empty body is left in the glass to brave the incoming storm. _

_Something hot is thrust into my unfeeling hand and a question is asked that I have no answer to._

_A heavy darkness falls over my young heart and I can finally give this strange feeling a name; grief._

_I tell this good person to send the fire sages, dutifully doing what she once said if this matter did arise._

They cremated her that old way, like she would have honor in.

They gave me the ashes. The **ashes**.

It was all I had left of her.

The next morning, I'm surprised to see the sun rising; the light has gone out of my own world.

…I've never been this lost before…

I carry the clay vessel to the cliff edges at dawn and scatter the dust to the wind, watching my beloved _sobo_ fade like a dim candle into the crashing pattern of blue waves.

My legs carry me to a field that once was a happy place.

And I see what once was:

_The blossoming of red flowers in my hands and the happiness that swells in my chest to see pride shine like love in those clear brown eyes._

_Me dancing, with flaming ribbons outstretched from careful fingers and leaping and landing and twirling, all to glimpse that beaming pleasure._

_Quietly talking about nothing and everything and watching the stars weave a lullaby of wishes and secrets._

_Waiting for the earth's change and simply sitting to breathe, senses enlarged behind closed lips and eyes._

_Hands clasped as two voices of old and young rise up in song to harmonize with the birds that watch from the trees._

_Nose kisses and cooking and a promise._

I fall to my knees under the shadowed blue sky.

_'__Forever, right _sobo?' _The ground leaves my feet as two arms twirl me around and I shriek with delight. She pulls me close and presses her lips to my nose. 'Forever and always, sweet one…I promise.'_

An angst cry rips through the silence and cuts off as sobs choke my throat and tears spill from my eyes. Please spirits! Wake me up. Make it stop!

**"****YOU PROMISED ME!" **I shout into the wind. **"YOU PROMISED ME FOREVER! DON'T LEAVE LIKE THIS! PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GO! I NEVER-"**

Knives tear my fragile heart apart as sorrow makes its home where love once was. Fist clutch at the grass as eyes are squeezed desperately shut against this nightmare. I weep into the dead flowers as clouds roll over head.

"….I never said good-bye."

* * *

I'm not going to lie, my friends; I was crying writing this. I'm sorry if it made you upset as well...*sigh* I never like character death but the plot requires it...

Poor, poor Zahara.

I'm gonna make this a brief A/N because my heart is still hurting (gosh darn it feels!), and I want to go outside and enjoy this sun. :D Please review, if you feel like it! Tell me what you think (I never know if I put in too much emotion or if I'm not adding enough). Leave your thoughts, ideas, tips, whatever! :) All are absolutely lovely and so are you!

(Inner voice: flatter will get you nowhere, Everleaf!

Me: shut up, we're the same being.

Inner voice: or so you think...mu ha ha ha

Me:...well, if that isn't creepy I don't know what is...)

ARGH I WAS SUPPOSE TO MAKE THIS SHORT! All well.

Have a brilliant day, friends and fellow writers/readers! XD

Thanks for reading!


	4. Epilogue Part 4

**A/N: ***sings out loudly* LOOK WHO'S BAAAA-AAAACK!

_Stop right there!_ Before you completely decapitate me with your keyboards or slice off my limbs with your laptops, I have a perectly satisfying excuse why I was MIA for about a month and a half.

*clears throat suspensefully*

_**BBC**_

You see, fellow writers, when a young and nerdy fangirl sells her soul to BBC, one simply does not watch Sherlock or Doctor Who with casual interest. ONE'S VERY MIND IS SUCKED INTO THE MASSIVE FANDOMS LIKE A POOR SPIDER TO A GIANT VACCUM AND YOU ARE TRAPPED FOREVER IN A SPIRALING RIDE OF INSANELY WONDERFUL ACTORS/ACTRESSES AND RELATIONSHIPS AND SHIPS THAT MAKE AND BREAK YOUR HEART AND CHARACTERS THAT ARE SO VERY REAL IT HURTS AND THERE IS SO MUCH TO LEARN ABOUT _ALL_ THESE AMAZING THINGS BUT SO MANY FEELS AND SLEEPLESS NIGHTS AND EMPTY TISSUE BOXES BUT ALSO THE JOYS AND BEAUTIFUL TOUCHING SCENES THAT MAKE YOU WANT TO WEEP FOR THEIR BEAUTY AND BRILLIANTNESS AND NOW I REALLY **REALLY** WISH I WAS BORN A BRIT!

Also: MOFFAT! *shakes enraged fist*

On that crazy note, how has all your Summers been going? Well, I hope. Can't believe it's August already! Where did you go, beautiful vacation?!

Alrighty kiddos, you know what time it is? That's right! THE DISCLAIMER! Horray! *confetti explodes and gets everywhere*

**Disclaimer**: I do not claim or obtain any of the copy-righted works that justly belong to Mike and Bryan. I do, as you probably all know by now, own my OCs.

For the followers that waited, you have waited long enough. Enjoy!

(For all those you got this refernece, free fish fingers and custard on me!)

* * *

I recall only glimpses of memory after that horrible, horrible day. An official looking man and woman came to the house at noon, telling me to pack my few possessions and get ready to leave for good.

Along with all my clothes, herb scroll, the sack of all our…_my_ money and precious memories, I carefully took my _sobo_'s treasured scarf out for under her cot and fingered the crimson material cautiously; she told me it had been my mother's.

When she ran away, according to Roshina, it was the only piece of home she took with her and it devastated my _sobo_, believing the valued heirloom to be lost. But when my mother wearily came home, much to her surprise, she returned the scarf.

Grapping it tenderly around my head, I set off with the authorized strangers to the unknown.

When we boarded the boat, I never looked back. Not **once**. Even as my crying eyes begged a glance to my home I fixed them on the rough seas, knowing one simple stare would end my unbalanced strength.

I don't remember much from the boat ride, only that many days passed and the crashing waves and grey skies mirrored my forlorn, empty spirit.

Land was an immense thing of earth with no oceans in sight and the noisiest ports I've ever been encountered. When I finally had it to my so called "second home", I was rudely welcomed by my uncle (once removed).

Apparently, my mother's sister had married a man but, when he was enlisted in the war, she doubted his return and went off for a new husband. Her second spouse was a man of the fire nation colonies, born fire nation but still unclear on the war and which side he supported. He promised her a life of luxury and wealth; how could she say no?

When my uncle's shipping career failed with the fire nation's destruction of a major importing area, his wealth plummeted and my aunt ditched him, striking off on her own in travel and snuggling up to noblemen and noblewoman of the fire nation court with her greed never fully satisfied.

With his life's work in the chamber pot and wife vanished, my uncle's view was decided.

When I knocked on the front door and the official lady told him who I was, he yelled that the fire nation could go to…some place not so nice.

It was off to a _real_ great start.

Catch a whiff of my sarcasm? It smells like irony, folks.

Anyway, I learned pretty fast that if I hand something to say, I was 'kept in my head or I was dead', or so my loving relative told me. I must be part cat owl because that week, I almost was killed ten times over.

My dramatically different home life aside, school was okay. Alright, I'll admit it; I spent more time _out_ of school then I did in…catch my drift?

I played hooky. And it was _great_.

Until, of course, a fellow classmate became suspicious of my repeated absences and decided to spy on my for a week, to see what I did.

And that's when all the king's horses and all the king's men came chasing after the poor escapee. What a little snitch.

Long story short, as I cut through the gardens with all the teachers gaining on me, a hand suddenly reached out from a bush and yanked me into the green branches.

Despite all the thoughts that were going through my head to turn and violently question the owner of the hand that still gripped my forearm, I kept quiet until all the adults had run past.

When I was sure it was safe again, I spun around to face…nothing. The person was gone but thin shrub limbs quivered to my far right, indicating we're he -or she- had gone. I burst out into the bright sunlight and saw a figure quickly disappear behind the corner of the school's walls. I called out but they keep going, so I gave chase.

Through the town and roads and ports this stranger led me on a wild goose chicken chase. I started to believe that this person had escaped me until I saw an over-turned fruit cart and several angry

I easily threaded my way through the irritated crowd and ducked into a darkened alleyway, where a few stray oranges were lazily rolling into the shadows.

My eyes adjusted to see a figure hastily duck behind a barrel. Approaching on light feet, I carefully near the hiding person.

"Is someone there?" My voice echoes around the close walls. "Please…I don't mean you harm. I just wanted to thank you. Will you come out?"

I can almost feel their hesitation before a set of heavy, uneven footsteps come my way.

A boy that looks about my age gradually steps into the light and gives a cautious smile.

"Hi," he says after a silent moment. "My name is Manik."

I grinned back. "I'm Zahara."

It was the start to a beautiful (but bizarre) friendship.

* * *

Oh no! Another cliffy! Seriously bet you know that was coming; it's a very suspenseful pattern of mine. He he he he...

If convinent, review. If inconvinent...reivew anyway! Authors love it, folks. It's like when you order ice cream at an Ice Cream Shoppe and they give you sprinkles and a cherry by accident but you don't complain or correct them becuase they're FREE!

*strokes invisible beard thoughtfully* Yeah, something like that...

Look forward to more but tread carefully; this promise is still under construction and not very stable.

Have a wonderful evening, friends! It is beautiful outside! I will go out and enjoy it...to excersize, you say? Are you insane?! I'll just read under a tree and delight in the sound of cicadas and lawn mowers in the late aftertoon heat.

Tomorrow is Percy Jackson's birthday! Happy Birthday, Hero of Olympus! Us mortals wish you well!

Take care, guys!

*****ADRESSED TO ALL WHOVIANS:** I have literally been stalling watching "Angels of Manhatten" becuase I know how much my heart will break; the Ponds are my hands down _favorite_ companions and I **really** don't want them to go! (Which is stupid, because technically in the DW universe they are already dead). If anyone could be so kind as to give me advice when I work up the courage to watch this teary epsisode I would be much obliged! Bless you!


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